Grays
by Hazel Maraa
Summary: Harry sees the world in grays, and pretty much feels out of sorts. Meeting Snape and other Death Eaters helps a bit. Not as good as it sounds. Oneshot, HBP compliant. No pairings. Warning! My muses are dead.


I disclaim.

* * *

Harry sat and stared at his hands, the only color he could see. Pale, shaking, calloused. His hands grasped at his wand, somewhat desperately, but Harry himself didn't understand the urgency of it all. There were men in black robes circling him like he was helpless and there was nothing he could do.

Harry frowned at his thoughts. _Like_ there was nothing he could do? He didn't understand why he should care that these people were probably going to kill him. What did it matter? He was distant, cold, colorless in his eyes. His eyes. Harry tapped his wand absently against his temple, thinking.

He had his mother's eyes, but they were completely his own now. His eyes were no longer sparkling and emerald green. Not that they'd ever really been sparkling. His childhood had been no picnic or anything easy and carefree.

_Dursley_ may as well be synonymous with _hell._

Harry tried to shake his head; he tried to clear his mind from these thoughts. His eyes were suddenly tired, and he longed for sleep. What happened to his anticipation for battle? He used to long for that too. The rush of battle, knowing he was doing good. Good that was far from being copied.

The _Daily Prophet_ now had a column for the odds on how long Harry would last in his almost single-handed fight against the Dark Lord and his servants. Not many people had much hope in him these days.

Harry didn't blame them. He didn't have much hope in himself either. The world was colorless. Grays, he thought. There were more shades of gray than he had ever believed. Harry tried to focus on the impending battle. It was him against twenty. Harry would have scoffed at this, but he was too tired to do much anything these days.

"Potter!" Harry looked up at the Death Eater in question. He seemed somewhat familiar. Huh. Curious, he thought blandly. "Potter!" The Death Eater shouted again. Harry cocked his head to the side, showing he was listening. "The Dark Lord will be very pleased to have your head impaled on a pike in his study tonight, Potter." Harry thought he recognized him as Snape.

"Snape?" Harry squinted to see better, as though the mask Snape was wearing would conceal less if he did so. "Snape, is that you?" Harry shrugged, but thought about what Snape had said.

Well. Harry'd always known that the Dark Lord was a bit of a sadist.

"Potter, are you listening? We will duel you, one by one. The winner of the duel gets to live." That certainly didn't bode well. Harry looked at them through gray tinted eyes.

"Well all right." He agreed. "Who's first?" Harry vaguely thought that his color-blindness could be a bit unhelpful in his duels. No matter, he thought dismissively, I'll just dodge them all.

And so he dueled. First with a bulky looking man. Harry distanced himself from his problems, his troubles, and his worries, and dueled. He distanced himself from himself, and beat them all, one by one.

Snape ended up being last, and before they even began to dance, Harry looked at him through heavily lidded eyes. Sleep sounded good right about now. Unfortunate, wasn't it, how what was good for Harry wasn't always what he needed. Snape stared at Harry.

"Potter?" Harry realized suddenly that he was on his knees. The world was still gray, but Harry abruptly understood that it wasn't _his_ vision that was black and white.

It was Snape's.

Harry got to his feet, and looked at him, more intently this time. The world became less gray, and more…

Colorless.

Intrigued, Harry took a step backwards. Curiosity killed the cat, but Harry Potter was more of a snake. Self-preservation was very high on his to-do list. He glanced at his hands, still pale and colored. He felt like he was outside his body, watching himself gaze at Snape. Understanding stopped eluding him.

"It was his time," Harry heard himself say, not making any hint as to what he was talking about, but he knew that Snape would get his message. Dumbledore died when he wanted to. Snape showed no reaction at his words, except leveling his wand at Harry's heart.

Distance.

Harry watched himself look at the people, cloaked and angry. They wanted something to happen. Well, Harry wasn't one to disappoint. Harry was pulled back into his body, and he looked Snape in the eye.

Distance

He grinned slowly, feeling the world lighten around him. Colors exploded into his eyes, but Harry was not dazed or shocked by the world. He'd been waiting for this. Colors had eluded him, just like understanding, but not anymore. Snape must have felt the world come into focus, and he, Snape, swallowed, but made no comment, just held his wand steady.

Distance

Harry tipped his head a bit in Snape's direction. Snape's eyes widened, and he began to cast a hex, knowing what Harry was going to do, and prompting him to hurry up.

_Distance._

Grin still in place, Harry apparated to Grimmauld Place, where he met Ron and Hermione.

"Did you get it?" Hermione asked eagerly. Harry glanced at her and tossed her something. She squealed excitedly. 'This is the last one besides Nagini and Voldemort himself." She said to herself. In her hands, she held Hufflepuff's cup.

"Good job, mate!" Ron said with a glint of anticipation. "Did you have any trouble?"

Harry looked at his friends, who were both expecting an answer of 'yes'.

"I met Snape again." Harry said quietly. "But I think we've come to an understanding of sorts." Hermione looked at him calculatingly, while Ron sputtered in disbelief.

"You're all right, then?" She asked. Harry replied affirmatively, and she set to work destroying the cup.

Ron's hair, Harry found, was redder than he remembered. And his own hands were different. More sure of not failing, he thought. But not confident of succeeding.

Harry took a deep breath.

"Mate?" Ron inquired.

"I'm good." He replied, and Ron shot him a suspicious glance, but nodded.

"Harry, we'll be right there with you all the way, you know that, don't you?" Hermione said randomly. "We know you can do it. The _Prophet_ knows nothing, but we know." Hermione said reassuringly. "We _know_ you can do it Harry." The boy in question nodded at her, surprised at how much those words meant. Ron clapped him on the back.

"Well then, let's get out of this place. Gives me the creeps." Ron shuddered, and the others laughed a bit.

_Distance_, they thought as one. And with a _pop_, they landed in a field, determined to finish Voldemort once and for all.

* * *

A/N: I'm not terribly happy with this. I know the whole destination, determination, and deliberation thing, but I figure Harry really wants to get away. I don't know. And then at the end, when they're thinking the 'distance' thing that they really want to get away and everything...

Yeah. Um. So. Review, okay? But you might not want to ask what this is about, because I'm not too sure meself.

I haven't written any Harry Potter in a long time. My muse(s) must have gotten killed along with my theories that Snape's evil. -sulk-


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